


More Than Words, Part Four

by Candy_A



Series: More Than Words [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy_A/pseuds/Candy_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny helps Steve cope with Doris's death, and finds that he still has a ways to go with his own recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Words, Part Four

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth installment of a nine-part series. The entire story has been completed, so you can read with confidence that this is not an unfinished work! Additional chapters will be posted in the near future.
> 
> This story is only authorized for posting on AO3 and via links from LJ. It may also be posted to the author's personal website. Permission is not granted for archiving to any additional sites.
> 
> Please note the archive warnings regarding the story content.

Danny put on his sport coat and looked at himself in the mirror. One benefit of getting dressed up was that the only bruising that showed was on his face. That wasn't too bad. It was obvious he'd gotten banged up somehow, but the worst of it was on the rest of his body.   
  
"It's me," Steve called to him from the front door as he came in.  
  
"In here," Danny said, sticking his weapon in its holster and his wallet in his pocket.   
  
"Hey. All set?"  
  
"Yeah." Danny turned toward Steve, who was dressed in a dark blue suit and a lighter blue shirt, open at the neck. Danny hadn't worn a tie, either, but then they always tended to make him feel like a noose around his neck, so he didn't miss it. "You doin' okay?" Danny asked. Steve was composed, which didn't surprise him. He'd do fine throughout all the public aspects of laying his mother to rest. Danny was glad he felt comfortable enough, finally, to fall apart with him in private.  
  
"I'll be fine."  
  
"It's okay if you're not," Danny said, taking Steve's hand.  
  
"I know." Steve squeezed Danny's hand and held on to it as they headed toward the front door.   
  
The visit to the funeral home was grim like those visits typically are. The initial arrangements Joe had made really only took care of having the hearse pick up the body at the airport. Beyond that, decisions still had to be made regarding a casket, visitation, church services, burial... Danny was no stranger to funeral homes. The Williams family was never of the opinion that children shouldn’t confront death or be part of the family funerals, so he’d been around for arrangements for a couple of grandparents, and had attended visitations and services for a number of elderly relatives. And Billy, and Grace Tilwell...and Matty. Danny was no stranger to death or its rituals.  
  
It was obvious Steve was not a veteran funeral planner, and Danny suspected he was more deeply shaken, beneath the surface, than he was letting on, so he was glad to be the less emotional and more experienced funeral arrangement negotiator as he helped Steve navigate through each step of the process.   
  
“The casket has to be closed,” Steve said.   
  
“Do you prefer an open casket if possible?” the elderly man in the dark suit asked as they sat in the posh, well-appointed office with its large polished wood desk and leather chairs. To Danny, the funeral director, Mr. Holden of Holden Funeral Chapels, looked like the wicked old preacher from the Poltergeist films. He wished he could find a discrete way to say that to Steve, because he had a feeling it would give him a much needed dose of humor right about then.   
  
“My mother was shot in the middle of her forehead. I think it’s safe to say we need to close the casket.”  
  
“You’d be amazed what we can do, Mr. McGarrett.”  
  
“Commander McGarrett,” Danny corrected, and Steve flashed him a little grin.   
  
“My apologies. I didn’t realize you were in the military.”  
  
“Navy Reserves now,” Steve said.   
  
“I see. If you’d like to keep that option open, I will personally review your mother’s situation when she arrives and determine what we can do.”  
  
“I think a closed casket is fine.”  
  
“Do you want them to try for...whatever they can do so you can see her?” Danny asked gently.   
  
“I’ll be seeing her before we go through all this, so I don’t need a lot of fake props for it later.”  
  
“Maybe it would be easier--”  
  
“Joe already showed me a picture, so there are no surprises left there. What else do you need to know?” he asked the funeral director.  
  
“Joe did what?” Danny was trying to wrap his mind around showing someone a picture of their dead mother with a bullet in the middle of her forehead.   
  
“We’ll talk about it later.”  
  
“I can give you two a moment if you like,” Mr. Holden said, standing. “I have a visitation I should check on. Please excuse me, gentlemen,” he said, leaving the office.   
  
“Joe showed you a picture of Doris...like that? Dead?”  
  
“He knew I’d want some kind of proof, Danny. It’s not like we haven’t been down this road with her before. I wouldn’t have bought it without seeing for myself, and I still won’t until I see her in person.”  
  
“What if I look?”   
  
“I’m a big boy, Danny.”  
  
“It’s your mother, Steve. You know I know her, I can identify if it’s a real body, if it’s dead, and if it’s Doris. Let me do this for you, babe. I don’t want you to have to see that.”  
  
Steve looked at him for a long moment and then nodded and took Danny’s hand, just holding onto it. “I’m sure this guy has seen family members get emotional. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. See, he’s even got tissues strategically located at just the right spot on his desk for us to reach them,” he added, and Steve actually laughed softly at that.   
  
“Old habits die hard, Danno. I spent most of her first funeral trying not to cry so my dad wouldn’t think I was a crybaby.”  
  
“He said that?”   
  
“Not in so many words, but he didn’t cry in front of us. Not even at the funeral. I was trying to be like him.”   
  
“You know that’s a crock of shit, right?”  
  
“Don’t hold back, Danny, let me know what you really think,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “Huh. I wonder how many people can compare how they acted at their mother’s _first_  funeral, as compared to her second one?”  
  
“Not many. You McGarretts are a remarkable lot.”  
  
“I guess we are.” Steve sighed. “She didn’t know many people here. I don’t even know where most of her friends are, or if she had any.”  
  
“Your dad’s buried here, so it makes sense for her to be buried where she was supposed to be buried the first time. Was she buried there? I mean, there’s no headstone with her name on it.”  
  
“Once I found out she was alive, I replaced the headstone with just my dad’s name on it.”  
  
“But if they dig that grave...?”  
  
“Her ashes are buried there. She was cremated the first time around.”  
  
“Do we need to say something or do we go out there tonight and dig up the can of fireplace debris or whatever it is in there?”  
  
“Fuck,” Steve muttered, smiling faintly. “Only my family could have this dilemma.”  
  
“Tell him it’s your old maiden great aunt who had nowhere else to be buried.”  
  
“We didn’t even give the old girl a headstone. We just stuck her in there.”  
  
“You have a better idea?”  
  
“Actually, no. But you need records for thing like that. You just don’t go out to the cemetery and dig a hole and toss somebody in there, even if they’re in a jar.”  
  
“So tell him the truth and blow his mind. He’ll be telling the story at the funeral directors’ conventions for the rest of his life. Which isn’t gonna be long from the look of him. Mr. Creepy Guy from  _Poltergeist.”_  
  
“That’s where I know him from! This whole time I thought he looked familiar...it’s been driving me nuts.”  
  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen. Did you reach a decision regarding our preparation of your mother?"  
  
"Do what you can for an open casket but be honest with us if it's not gonna work," Danny said, reaching over and taking Steve's hand. Steve had already introduced Danny as his partner and not bothered to explain the relationship further, so he didn't think Steve would mind. He was right. Steve's hold on his hand tightened right away. "I’ll be seeing her before you do any prep on her.”  
  
“I’m confused...why would you want to view her before we work on her?”  
  
“Look, Mr. Holden, my mother was involved in...intelligence work most of her life, and for security reasons, she was already declared dead, had a funeral, and was ‘buried’ about 23 years ago. Danny’s going to verify for me that it’s her before we proceed with any kind of preparation, or in case the finished product isn’t up to your standards for an open casket. As a matter of fact, you’ll have to remove an urn of fake ashes from the plot where she’s going to be buried.”  
  
“I’ll need some kind of authorization to do that.”  
  
“I’m in charge of the governor’s Five-0 task force,” Steve said, showing his credentials. “If that doesn’t work for you, I have high-level security clearance with the Navy Central Intelligence Service. I think those are good enough credentials to authorize digging up a can of ashes. The funeral home that did the first funeral can probably handle it if your people can’t.”  
  
He looked at the badge Steve flashed him and held up his hand.  
  
“No offense intended, Commander. We just need to be sure we’re handling things properly when it comes to exhuming what are purported to be remains.”  
  
“They’re supposed to be my mother’s remains, so obviously, they aren’t. If it will make you feel better, the medical examiner is a friend of mine. He can take custody of the ashes that are currently in there and verify that they’re not human. Would that work?”  
  
“Yes, certainly.”  
  
“Dr. Max Bergman,” Steve said. “Contact him for those arrangements.”  
  
“All right, I’ll do that. I do apologize. It’s not that I don’t trust you or your credentials, but I have to protect my business from engaging in any unauthorized disposal of unidentified remains.”  
  
“I realize our family presents a unique challenge,” Steve said, flashing a quick look at Danny.  
  
“All right, I think we have the most difficult details ironed out. We’ll need to discuss flowers, and also select a casket.”  
  
“You have a catalog or something?” Steve asked.  
  
“We have a showroom,” Holden replied, smiling. Danny found himself wanting to run for the door or check if he had a blessed object handy to stave the old ghoul off. He looked too pleased to be taking them to a room full of caskets, considering he kind of looked as if he’d just crawled out of one himself.   
  
“Oh,” Steve replied. “When my dad died, all that was handled by the time I got here,” he said to Danny. “I didn’t know you went casket shopping.”  
  
“It’s a little unsettling, but that’s the way they do it.”  
  
“Shall we?” the old undertaker said, standing and gesturing to them toward the door. “It’s right up the stairs just outside my office.”  
  
“You want me to do it?” Danny asked Steve.  
  
“No, I’m good. I’m thinking you should skip the steps. It’s a steep flight.”  
  
“We have a service elevator,” Mr. Holden said.   
  
“Okay, let’s do this then,” Steve said.   
  
Danny was at Steve’s side as he let the funeral director extol the virtues of his most deluxe offerings. Steve might have been grieving and might not be a veteran funeral planner, but he was nobody’s chump, either, so they found themselves looking at something tasteful in the middle of the wide price range, a nice gold tone with a cream-colored interior. Steve couldn’t picture his mother in pink or blue, and the darker shades seemed a bit too masculine, so he settled on the gold one with relatively little debate or wavering.   
  
Once they stepped outside, Steve took in a deep breath.  
  
“Are you okay?” Danny asked.  
  
“Yeah. I just wanted a whiff of something besides flowers and formaldehyde.”   
  
“There’s no way for that not to be an oppressive atmosphere, no matter how nice the place is or how much they spend on the decorating,” Danny said, sighing, then holding his ribs, regretting the extra breath.  
  
“I hope you’re not overdoing it, being out and around. The doctor said you were on the--”  
  
“Borderline for hospitalization, yeah, I remember. I didn’t really believe him until I got out and did something. I still want us to go get something to eat with Gracie, if you want to do that after...you know,” Danny gestured behind them at the funeral home.  
  
“Yeah, but let’s wait to tell her about all this until we get home. Let her enjoy dinner. You sure you’re up to it?”  
  
“All I have to do is sit at the table and eat. I’d be doing that at home.”  
  
“Okay. It’s almost five. Let’s get a move on and go pick her up then.”  
  
“You want me to drive?”   
  
“Nice try,” Steve said, holding up the car keys. Danny just laughed softly at that. He didn’t really care who drove, at least not at that moment. He wanted to be there for Steve, whether that meant driving him around or taking in good spirits letting him drive.   
  
********  
  
Grace was happy with the idea of going out for dinner and since she had a craving for Mexican food, they chose one of her favorite places and settled in at a table to order dinner. A few tables away, a group of eight men were gathered, and based on Steve’s assessment of their demeanor and the pitchers of beer on the table, they were having a good time and not feeling much pain. They were louder than they really should have been for the family restaurant environment, but they weren’t obnoxious to the point where he had a justification to flash his badge and tell them to take it down a few notches.   
  
He noticed Danny’s irritation at the situation, but it was subtle; a clench of the jaw here and there, or a look surreptitiously directed at the group. They were out with Grace, and he assumed Danny felt the same way he did: they wanted to have a nice outing with her, not have her witness them chewing out a table full of half-drunk guys who might make the unwise choice to mouth off. Plus, there was no way Danny could risk mixing it up with anybody until he was healed.   
  
By the time they ordered and were digging into the big basket of tortilla chips and salsa the server had brought them, Steve noticed a fine sheen of sweat on Danny’s face that didn’t look normal. It was a little stuffy in the restaurant, but not that warm. They’d left their jackets in the car, so they were in rolled up shirt sleeves.   
  
After another boisterous round of laughter and more joking and loud conversation in Spanish, Danny excused himself from the table and headed for the restroom. Steve exhaled a little, because for a moment he thought Danny had hit the end of his patience and was going to say something to the group. They were average guys ranging in age from about thirty to fifty, none of them especially fit or muscular looking, so Steve wasn’t concerned about taking them on, but he was more concerned about Danny getting hurt or Grace seeing something ugly.   
  
“You think Danno’s okay?” Grace asked.   
  
“I’m just gonna go check on him. I’m sure he’s fine.”  
  
“Okay,” she agreed, munching on a chip, but looking concerned.  
  
********  
  
Danny leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall, trying to banish the unwanted images from his mind. He fought the battle against throwing up. His ribs couldn’t take it and he couldn’t go out there and fake enjoying dinner with Grace if he’d just left his guts in a toilet in the men’s room. All those loud male voices, the laughter, the joking and conversation in Spanish...it wasn’t their fault, and he couldn’t avoid hearing male voices speaking Spanish for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t stand it now.   
  
“Danny?” Steve’s voice wasn’t a surprise but it as a relief. As far as he knew, the bathroom was empty except for them.   
  
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.  
  
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, then added. “There’s nobody else in here.” He heard a click, and knew Steve had locked the outer door. God help anybody if their Mexican food didn’t agree with them and it was urgent.  
  
Danny flushed the toilet though there was nothing there. He wasn’t sure he was ready to have a meltdown here, and letting Steve know he was just hiding in the stall to try to make the memories go away wasn’t a good way to avoid that. He left the stall and found Steve leaning against the counter by the sinks, looking concerned.   
  
“I can manage a trip to the john by myself,” he snapped, not sure why he was taking it out on Steve, other than the fact that if he were to admit it, there was no one else on earth he’d rather see and he knew Steve’s arms around him would calm him down like nothing else, and while being close to Steve was wonderful, he wanted that feeling of standing on his own two feet. If Steve was in his arms, he wanted it to be because there was something good happening, not because he was falling apart again.   
  
“I wasn’t trying to intrude on you, Danno. I thought maybe you weren’t feeling good or we overdid it today.”  
  
“You make me sound like an invalid. This is why I didn’t want to tell you what happened.”  
  
“Okay. I’ll go back out to the table. Dinner’s probably there by now. Grace’ll be getting worried.”  
  
Danny looked at himself in the mirror, and then looked at Steve, who didn’t look as angry as he should have. Steve who could snap a man in half like a twig and not break a sweat was just taking his verbal assault without a harsh word back to him. Steve turned to leave but Danny caught his arm.   
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
“No, it’s not. It’s not your fault.” Danny let his hand drop and sighed.   
  
“I was worried you were gonna go start something with those guys out there.”  
  
“Back when I had my balls, I probably would have.”  
  
“Danny...”  
  
“You know what my mother told me once? And remember, she really loves me so she was trying to give me advice so I didn’t get myself killed.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“She said I reminded her of a Yorkie who likes to pick fights with Rottweilers.”   
  
“Ouch,” Steve said, but he laughed. That was such an apt description of Danny’s courage, bravado, and surprising skill and strength at  _winning_  those confrontations that it was actually pretty funny.   
  
“I was always up for a round or two with kids bigger than me. How do you think I stuck up for Matty when my little brother was taller than I was? He was bigger but I was the one who’d kick their asses, and they knew it.”  
  
“I’ve never doubted it. Perps who do have lived to regret it.”  
  
“Now I’m intimidated by a bunch of half-drunk couch potatoes in a family restaurant.”  
  
“Grace is with us, and you’re injured. A gut punch wouldn’t be good for you right now, and sure as hell wouldn’t be good for Gracie to watch.”  
  
“I could hide behind Grace as the reason. The truth is, it’s their voices.”  
  
Steve was about to question that when he really let it sink in. A bunch of loud, boisterous male voices speaking Spanish...  
  
“Nuts, huh?” Danny asked, looking back at himself in the mirror.  
  
“No, not at all. It actually makes a hell of a lot of sense, Danny. Let’s just get dinner packed up to go and eat it at home.”  
  
“Grace is gonna wonder what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to worry her.”  
  
“Just tell her you’re fine, but you’re tired. She’ll understand.”  
  
“I can’t go through life afraid of hearing guys speak Spanish.”  
  
“You’re not gonna go through life like that. But you might have to go through some time while you’re recovering. When you feel strong physically, and you’re not hurting all the time, the rest of it’s gonna come, too. At least, I remember a friend giving me that advice when I was still half crazy from being shot up with drugs and weak from all the crap Wo Fat tried on me to get me to tell him what I didn’t know anyway. And it was good advice, Danny. You don’t feel strong when you know one good blow would lay you out or displace a bunch of fractured ribs. That’s your body telling you to back the hell off and not get killed.”  
  
“So you’re telling me to take my own advice, huh?”  
  
“Yeah, and take it easy on yourself. You’ll recover. And it’ll be okay.”  
  
“Okay,” he agreed, smiling, even though he didn’t really feel it. Maybe if he did it enough, one day he’d do it and really feel it inside.  
  
“We’re gonna get it boxed up and go home,” Steve said, and Danny nodded.   
  
When they returned to the dining room, the group that had caused the upheaval were leaving.   
  
“You wanna stay?” Steve asked Danny, leaning close as they approached their table where Grace was waiting.   
  
“Yeah, I’m good,” Danny said as they sat down again.  
  
“Are you okay, Danno?” Grace asked.  
  
“Fine, monkey. Uncle Steve’s just a big worry wart,” he joked, and she laughed.   
  
“Gee, thanks for the back-up, Gracie,” Steve replied, smiling at her.   
  
“I was worried about you, too,” she admitted then.   
  
“Don’t be, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. Food looks great,” he said, and while it didn’t look all that great to him, he was kind of hungry, and enjoying a nice family dinner with Steve and Grace was a good way to heal what ailed him.   
  
********  
  
Danny lay there on his side, feeling the softness of the featherbeds under him, trying to focus on that and keep himself calm through the ointment ritual. Steve treated the whole thing very matter-of-factly, as if he were just applying some bruise cream to one more spot and not treating what Danny had come to view as the epicenter of his trauma. With his shorts back in place, Steve moved on to carefully applying some of the cream he’d bought for treating bruises to the numerous angry-looking areas on Danny’s back, shoulders and arms.   
  
“Thanks,” he muttered when Steve had almost finished.   
  
“No problem,” Steve replied quietly. Danny felt Steve’s weight leave the mattress as he got up to put away his supplies and wash his hands. It was a small thing - that Steve didn’t use gloves to do things for him - but it made him feel good. It had never occurred to him to use gloves whenever he’d helped Steve with treating an injury, unless he had to handle bandaging or treating an open wound and the gloves were more for Steve’s protection than his own.   
  
Danny went through the awkward struggle of sitting up without pulling too much on his ribs and eased himself into an undershirt to sleep in. He was still amazed at the featherbeds - that Steve thought of them, and that he’d gone out late at night and bought them and rearranged all the bedding so Danny could rest more easily with softness under his sore spots.   
  
Steve turned out the bathroom light and then turned out the lights in the bedroom. The TV was droning on low in the background, it’s picture making the light in the room surreal and changing. Steve got into what Danny had come to view as his side of the bed, wearing his shorts and an old, soft gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.   
  
“How’re you doing?” Danny asked. There was so much focus on taking care of him and his issues that he didn’t want Steve’s grief to get lost in the shuffle.  
  
“I’m okay.”  
  
“It’s okay if you’re not.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Steve was quiet a few minutes, but Danny knew perfectly well he wasn’t paying attention to the news channel babbling on in the background.   
  
“I’m sorry I can’t do anything.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You take care of me and wait on me, and the whole thing with the featherbeds...it means a lot to me, Steven. I just...I want you to know that I’m not just...disinterested or something.”  
  
“Do you want to do something?”  
  
“Like what? I can barely move.”  
  
“Your lips worked just fine last night. Kissing was good,” Steve said, and there was a little humor in his voice.  
  
“Not much of a payoff.”  
  
“I love you, Danny. You’re the payoff.” Steve reached over and took his hand.   
  
“I don’t think anybody’s ever thought of me as a payoff,” Danny said, grinning, looking over at Steve. “I mean, just me. I’m all messed up and--”  
  
“Danny? Shut up.” Steve rolled on his side and kissed Danny. Long, hard, decisively, and with lots of tongue. “You mind doing that for a while?”   
  
“If you don’t do it again, I’m coming after you, broken ribs and all.”  
  
Steve grabbed the remote control and punched in a couple different numbers. “Music channel,” he said, as the sounds of soft instrumental music replaced the nattering of the talking heads on the news network. He tossed the remote aside and leaned over Danny, bracing himself on one arm so he didn’t lay his weight on him. They kissed again, and this time, Danny participated actively, enthusiastically. Steve tasted good and he felt good and being loved so much made Danny’s battered soul soar, if only for a few minutes, above all the misery he’d been through.   
  
Steve caressed his arm and held his hand, kissed his neck and his shoulder, and then was back to his mouth again.   
  
“Love you, babe,” Danny whispered, wishing all the good, warm feelings in his heart would travel further south.   
  
“Is this okay?” Steve asked, his hand moving lightly along Danny’s stomach, up under his tank shirt, brushing his nipple. There was nothing about the awful assault he’d been through that had anything to do with anyone giving him pleasure or showing him love. Steve was kissing his neck again, nuzzling him, inhaling his scent. Steve’s hand, that was so strong and could be so forceful, was barely grazing over his skin with such delicacy that it almost tickled.   
  
“Yeah, it’s good,” Danny finally remembered to answer. It was beyond good. It was wonderful. Steve knew Danny couldn’t withstand penetration, and that with all his sore spots, he couldn’t move around or do much, but it was obvious he didn’t care. He was just loving Danny any way he could with his mouth and his hands, and before Danny knew what he was doing, his own hands were responding, touching Steve’s chest, pushing at the t-shirt he wore, wanting it off and grinning up at Steve when he obliged and tossed it aside. “Bring that down here,” he teased, holding onto Steve’s shoulders, urging him down so he could kiss Steve’s perfectly sculpted chest, drive him crazy sucking on his nipples, his hands running down Steve’s sides and resting on his hips. “Fuck...I can’t...”  
  
“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have--” Steve moved away like he’d been scalded.  
  
“No, it’s not that,” Danny gasped, the pain sharp in his side like knives stabbing into his body. “I’m breathing too hard and my side is killing me.”  
  
“Shit,” Steve flopped back on the bed. “Danny, I’m sorry.”  
  
“I’m not. Hey, my hand’s not broken. You’ve gotta be getting hard.” Danny reached over and brushed his hand past the erection tenting Steve’s shorts.   
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah, I can handle this mission,” he said, and Steve laughed, albeit a little unevenly. Danny slipped his hand inside Steve's shorts and wrapped his hand around Steve's erection.  
  
"God, Danny," he gasped.   
  
"Relax and enjoy it, babe."   
  
Danny loved the feeling of Steve in his hand, making him moan and tilt his head back on the pillows, knowing he was the one making Steve gasp and sigh and say his name until his body arched and he came, finally slumping into the softness of the bed, spent and limp. Danny thought about all the ways Steve was taking care of him while he recovered, and he got up and went into the bathroom, bringing back with him a warm washcloth and a small towel. He cleaned the come off Steve's belly and dried the spot, then set the towel on the floor with the washcloth on top of it.   
  
"C'mere, babe. I wanna hold you but I can't figure out how to do it unless you come to me," Danny said, finally lying on his back and giving up. Steve chuckled at that and happily moved close to Danny, very carefully situating himself under Danny's arm, head on his shoulder, finally figuring out how to rest his arm on Danny's chest in a spot that wasn't bruised up. "Okay?"  
  
"Yeah, it's great," Steve said in a hushed tone. Danny covered Steve's hand where it rested on his chest.   
  
"You okay?" he asked gently.   
  
"I always thought I'd have another chance to talk to her, y'know? Now she's dead...at least, I think she is, and it's really over."  
  
Danny slid his fingers into Steve's hair and kissed his forehead.   
  
"For a while there, I thought you were probably gone, too," Steve added.  
  
"I'm still right here, and I love you like crazy, Steven." He stroked Steve's hair again. "Relax and get some sleep, babe. I'm right here, and I'm never gonna leave you, okay? Even if you get to a point where you kind of wish I would," he joked, kissing Steve's forehead again.   
  
"Never," Steve whispered, and it sounded choked and strained.   
  
"It's okay, you're stuck with me for the long haul."  
  
"Better be," Steve replied. "Love you, Danno."  
  
"I know you do. Nobody else would go out at midnight and buy me featherbeds. And chicken. The chicken was really good, too." That made Steve chuckle. "Go to sleep. It's late and it's been a rough day."  
  
"Ended well though," Steve said.  
  
"Yeah, it sure did." Danny closed his eyes and started drifting off to sleep. If all his days could end with Steve sleeping in his arms, he could face anything.  
  
********  
  
Danny considered himself among the ranks of the insomniacs, the people who couldn’t sleep without the TV on, or who couldn’t sleep at all and that’s why the TV was on all night. He’d slept better on that plastic-covered couch in that old lady’s apartment curled up by Steve than he did in his own bed most nights. Now, in his own bed, with Grace in her room down the hall and Steve sleeping by his side - or in his arms - he was remembering what the hype over a good night’s sleep was all about. He actually woke up somewhat refreshed, instead of just tired and bleary-eyed from catching catnaps between infomercials.   
  
It was after eight, and Steve wasn’t in bed anymore. That wasn’t surprising. He was probably running or swimming or doing some other strenuous thing that morning people with washboard abs did first thing in the morning. Danny tried to picture working out and his ribs screamed in protest at the thought. He took pride in keeping in shape, and it was essential for his job, but early morning workouts were never his forte. At the moment, turning over was enough effort.  
  
“Morning, Danno,” Grace greeted cheerfully, carrying a tray with breakfast on it. She was staying home from school since they were going to the airport by late morning to meet the plane bringing Doris’ remains back to Oahu.   
  
“Wow, breakfast in bed?” He managed to sit up without making too much of a show of pain. Grace set the tray carefully on the dresser and hurried to help arrange pillows behind him.   
  
“Uncle Steve said to let you sleep until about eight and then check on you. I know as soon as I open the door, it’ll wake you up anyway, so I brought breakfast.”  
  
“You’ve got my number, don’t you, monkey?”  
  
“You’re a light sleeper,” she said, giggling a little.   
  
“This looks great,” he said of the tray she set across his lap. There was a healthy dose of protein on that plate - eggs, bacon, toast, juice, and a banana.  
  
“Uncle Steve told me what to fix. I added the banana because he was giving you all fat and cholesterol.”  
  
“I think he’s trying to build up my strength with the protein. Uncle Steve has a thing about protein,” Danny added, smiling.  
  
“I was talking to Mom on the phone this morning. She wants you to call her.”  
  
“Why? Did she say?”  
  
“No, she just said to call. Danno, what should I wear to go to the airport?”  
  
“We’ll see how dressed up Uncle Steve wants to get to do it. If we’re going with dressy clothes, your plain black dress with the white sash you wore to Mrs. Nelson’s memorial service would be good,” he said, referring to a service some of the students in Grace’s school had attended for an elderly woman who had volunteered at the school for many years.  
  
“Okay. Is he okay?”  
  
“He lost his mom, and that’s hard to get through, but we’re gonna make sure he’s okay, right?”  
  
“Right,” she said, smiling faintly.   
  
“What is it?” Danny asked, putting down his fork. He’d had a pretty decent appetite when he woke up, and it was a nice change.   
  
“When I got up, he was just standing there in the kitchen, looking out the window, and I think he was crying before he knew I was up. His eyes were kind of wet-looking.”  
  
“Uncle Steve’s relationship with his mom was kind of complicated. They loved each other, but they didn’t have as much time together as you and your mom have, or as you and I have. There were some things that happened...he lost both of his parents suddenly with things unresolved.”  
  
“Grandma Clara said that’s why it’s important to always tell people you love them and not stay mad at each other over stupid things, because you don’t always know if you’ll have another chance.”  
  
Danny mulled that over a second, momentarily angry at his mother for loading such a grim, sobering thought on his twelve-year-old daughter that he wanted to shelter from everything ugly in the world forever. Death and loss were realities of life that were liable to intrude on anyone’s happiness, at any age. Maybe it wasn’t so bad if Grace could learn some of the painful lessons the adults around her had to learn the hard way, before they became for her the regrets they were for them.   
  
“Most of the time, you have lots of chances, so don’t worry about that, honey. But Grandma Clara’s right - it’s important to be sure the people you love know how you feel, and holding stupid grudges, it’s not worth it.”  
  
“I don’t like seeing Uncle Steve so sad.”  
  
“I know. I don’t either. Did you eat yet?”  
  
“I had some cereal.”  
  
“Here. It’s turkey bacon, isn’t it?” Danny said, holding out a piece of bacon toward her.   
  
“Yup,” she said, taking it and having a bite.   
  
After he finished breakfast and Grace took the tray out to the kitchen, Danny picked up the phone to call Rachel.  
  
“I’d really appreciate it if you decide to keep Grace home from school if you’d call me,” she said.  
  
“I’m doing better, thanks, Rachel. And I’ll share with Steve your condolences about Doris.”  
  
“You don’t have to be snippy, Danny. Why are you keeping her out of school today?”  
  
“Because we had a death in the family. She’s coming with us to meet the plane that’s bringing Doris back to Oahu.”  
  
“Why? You’ll be there. Why does Grace need to miss school for what’s essentially a cargo delivery? I can understand her attending the visitation or the funeral.”  
  
“Wow...” Danny sat back on the pillows. “Seriously?”  
  
“I don’t want her falling behind.”  
  
“She’s a straight-A student, Rachel. She’s not going to fall behind because she misses a little time to be with her family at a time like this. I mean, come on, if one of Stan’s parents died, you’d have her out of school for all of it.”  
  
“That’s different. Stan’s her stepfather.”  
  
“Let me buy you a ticket on the clue bus, Rachel. Grace is a hell of a lot closer to Steve than she is to Stan, and she wants to be there to support him. He’s just as much another parent to her as Stan ever thought of being. Probably more so since he’s not always flying off somewhere on business and he doesn’t just throw money at her. He’s been like another father to her since she was eight.”  
  
“You can be incredibly offensive, Daniel. And you make it sound like you and Steve are a couple.”  
  
“He’s family to me and Grace, that’s all that matters in a situation like this. He just lost his mother and we’re going to be there for him. Family means something to me. It’s always meant a hell of a lot more to me than it ever did to you, that’s obvious.”  
  
“Just don’t make a habit of pulling Grace out of school. I do still have a say in her education.”  
  
“Yeah, go ahead, complain to the school, or a judge, or a lawyer that she was out of school a day because of a death in the family and see how far you get. I’m sick of your threats, Rachel. Our daughter is going to grow up learning the value of family and being there for the people you love. That’s how it is in my family, and it’s how Grace is gonna grow up, too.”  
  
“Just be sure she’s not missing days at a time over this. She barely knew Doris.”  
  
“She knows Steve, that’s the point here, Rachel. It sounds to me like that’s what you have a problem with. Get used to it. He’s not going anywhere.” Danny broke the connection and tossed the phone across the mattress, sending it to the edge, barely staying on the bed.   
  
“Must have been Rachel,” Steve said as he walked in, carrying a tall glass of orange juice, his t-shirt soaked in spots with sweat. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Okay as it ever is with Rachel.”  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing important.”  
  
“Did you tell her we were keeping Gracie out of school today?”  
  
“Why do you have to be so fucking smart?”  
  
“Sorry, I’ll try to dummy down so I don’t annoy you in the future,” Steve said, smiling, taking a drink of his juice. “It’s just a power play, Danny. Don’t let her get under your skin.”  
  
“That spot’s reserved for you, babe,” Danny replied, and Steve smiled widely at that.   
  
“I’m gonna grab a shower.”   
  
“I can give you a massage when you come out if you want."  
  
"Wow...what did I do to deserve that?" Steve asked, pausing in the bathroom doorway.   
  
"You always overdo it when you're stressed out. You probably ran all the way around the island...twice," Danny joked.   
  
"I am a little tired," Steve admitted.   
  
"Go shower and I'll give you a rubdown."  
  
"You sure you feel up to that?"   
  
"I'm sure. No damage to the magic hands," Danny said, flexing his fingers.  
  
After Steve finished in the shower, he returned to the bedroom naked, rubbing a towel over his hair.  
  
"Are you sure we have time for this? What about Grace?"  
  
"She'll knock if she needs something," Danny said.  
  
"Unlike her dad," Steve joked, stretching out on the bed on his stomach.   
  
"Smart ass," he replied, rubbing some lotion on his hands before sitting next to Steve and starting at his shoulders, gently but assertively working the muscles there, moving down his back, smiling as Steve groaned in pleasure.  _If he was mine, he'd never have another muscle cramp or knot in his life._  Danny enjoyed just doting on that perfect, bronzed body, but more than that, he liked spoiling Steve a little, making him feel good.   
  
"Feels good, Danny," he mumbled.   
  
"Good. Just relax, babe."  
  
Danny continued the massage until he got near the swell of Steve's ass. He paused a moment there. "Okay?"  
  
"Okay with me if it's okay with you," he said, not moving. Danny continued lower, working the muscles in Steve's lower back, his hips, his ass, and then down his thighs, finally rubbing each foot until he finished. He kissed Steve's shoulder.   
  
"Take a little rest. I'm gonna wait on you this time. What do you want for breakfast?"  
  
"About six hours of sleep," he mumbled. Danny stroked his hair and kissed his cheek.   
  
"We probably don't have six hours, but take a little nap if you're tired. I'll get you something to eat in a little while."  
  
"You should rest."  
  
"I'm not gonna do anything strenuous."   
  
"Good, then lie down with me. Is Grace okay for a while?"  
  
"Grace said she was going to work on her homework this morning before we go to the airport, so she'll be fine." Danny carefully stretched out on the bed by Steve and covered him with the sheet. “How long has it been since  _you’ve_  had a decent night’s sleep?” he asked, his hand rubbing lightly over Steve’s back. Steve yawned widely. Danny didn’t think he’d ever seen Steve yawn before.   
  
“Before Wo Fat,” he mumbled.   
  
“Before him at all, or this last time?”  
  
“This last time.”  
  
“Well, that was a waste.”  
  
“What d’you mean?” Steve sounded like he was almost asleep, and Danny kept up the light rubbing motion on his back to keep him going in that direction.  
  
“Your partner is an insomniac who has the TV going all night. You could have come over and we could have been insomniacs together.”  
  
Steve snorted a little at that. The next sound Danny heard from him was a snore.  
  
********


End file.
